


Alone

by andonlythinkofme



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:37:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andonlythinkofme/pseuds/andonlythinkofme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Fanfiction is of “The Walking Dead” and follows the character of Carol Peletier in season 4 episode 4 “Indifference” after Rick banishes Carol for killing group members Karen and David.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

The little arrow on her dash was getting dangerously close to the “E” symbol. With the sun setting and the open road stretching before her unendingly, Carol was stuck in the worst kind of limbo. Behind her the prison, her home for the past year, lay unreachable. She tapped her fingers on the wheel rapidly. Sure, Rick had stocked her car with some food and blankets, but that didn’t replace the solid security of the prison. Sending her off on her own, no matter how much supplies Rick had given her, was a death sentence. The back of her throat burned.   
“Not now,” Carol whispered to herself. She couldn't afford to have a breakdown just yet. Her first priority had to be finding shelter. She’d slept in cars early on, when her life and the lives of her group mates had been unstable and having a roof over one’s head was not guaranteed. Carol swallowed back her anger and focused on the road. Dense forest encroached on both sides of the thorofare. There were no signs that Carol could see nor were there any distinguishing landmarks. She’d been on a few supply runs with Daryl outside the prison but had never gone so far. Carol was completely and utterly lost. She wished Daryl was with her now. The young hunter would know where to go.   
“Stop it, Carol,” She growled to herself, “Focus,” up ahead of her there was a side road just visible in the gloom of the trees. Carol slowed her car and made a right. The street appeared to be clear. Down this road was a cul-de-sac of ranch-style homes. Easy to clear out. The forest encroached on the neighborhood now that there were no people there to keep it managed. There were four homes, three of which had broken doors and windows. Obviously Carol was not the first person to seek refuge here. At the top of the street, however, there stood a faded blue house with a peeling white door. A mesh screen door was hanging open but still attached. A good sign. There were no trees in the front lawn and the overgrown grass was only just above ankle height. A cul-de-sac wasn’t ideal. Carol knew from experience that being trapped by walkers in a house was a surefire way to get killed, but it was unlikely that any other homes would present themselves considering the limited amount of fuel that she had.   
“Easy access to the road. Minimal blockage. Probably gets a lot of moonlight. About as good as it’ll get.” The sound of Carol’s own voice was striking in the silence of the car. Compared to the hustle and bustle of the prison, Carol’s lonely voice felt like a stab to the gut. She ran her fingers through her short, grey hair. Now was still not the time for any sort of breakdown. Carol was used to pushing down certain events. Her horrible marriage to her abusive, dead husband Ed, the death of her daughter, all the friends they’d lost along the way. Carol could push them down like sick at the back of her throat. Carol closed her eyes, swallowed thickly, and forced herself to focus. For now, survival was all that mattered. She pulled her car into the driveway of the blue house and put the vehicle in park.   
The first one was in the foyer. It must have heard the engine of Carol’s car. With a sharp downward strike, Carol lodged her knife into the side of the walker’s skull. The decayed body covered loosely by a dirty yellow sundress saged to the floor. Carol kicked closed the front door and made sure it was locked. The front foyer had two large windows on either side of the door that gave her just enough light to see by. The fading light illuminated the hall but not the rest of the house from what she could see. Daryl always told her to pick and choose her fighting locations. As far as the house went, the foyer was probably Carol’s best bet. She dropped her heavy backpack behind her and began stomping her foot on the wood floor.   
“Hey! Walkers! Hey! Hey!” She called out. From the bowels of the house, groans echoed. It was like a horror movie. From the darkness at the end of the hall, three more walkers stumbled forward. They looked like a family. The mother lay dead at Carol’s feet and the father along with two little girls were advancing towards her now. The father was coming faster. He was bald from what Carol could tell but it was difficult seeing as the front of his forehead was caved in. His left eye must have fallen out and his exposed chest was concave. Black ichor dribbled from his gnashing mouth. Carol centered herself, focusing all her weight on the heels of her feet and waited. The father shuffled closer, the two little girls not far behind. Carol held her breath until the walker was in strike range. Just like Daryl had taught her, Carol swung upwards. Her long knife entered from his jaw and lodged itself into his brain. Swiftly, she pulled it out and hacked at the two girls dressed in the pajamas. Carol studiously forced herself to not look at the daughters. Leaving behind Lizzie and Mika was still fresh in her mind. She didn’t need to be reminded that those girls were waiting for her back at the prison and probably wouldn’t understand why she wasn’t coming back. 

Flashlight in her left hand, knife in her right, Carol left behind four downed walkers stacked up on the inside of the door so no one could open it up from the outside. She passed a room on her left which appeared to be an office or work room. On her right was a bathroom connected to a sitting room as well as the hallway. Finally, she came upon a large bedroom. The single beam of her flashlight was all she had to see by so Carol nudged open the door further and scanned the room with it. There was a window on the far wall covered up by cheap white blinds and a queen sized bed with the coverings taken off. There must have been other furniture in the room but they were probably taken because there was nothing else there. The closet doors on the left wall were open and empty as well. Carol slipped into the room and pushed the door closed. She placed the flashlight on the floor, tucked her knife into her back pocket, and dropped her backpack on the mattress.   
“Clear,” she whispered to the room at large. No one spoke back. Carol was completely and utterly alone. She’d never been alone, not really. After high school she’d married Ed and had her daughter Sophia, then she’d created her makeshift family with Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Lizzie, Mika, and… Rick. Since she was seventeen years old, Carol hadn’t been alone. Slowly she sank down on the edge of the mattress. The stabbing in her gut twisted. Anger burned the back of her eyes, hot tears clung to her lashes. It wasn’t fair. Yes, Carol had killed. She’d done it for the good of her family. She’d done it for all of them. For Rick and his son and daughter. No one was willing to do anything about it. No one had wanted to get their hands dirty. How could Rick blame her for finally stepping up and doing what needed to be done? If Carol had left things as they were, if she had just let Karen and David go on in the prison around the children and the elderly people, sickness would have spread to everyone. Being alone is no way to survive. People need people now. Didn’t Rick see that? He wasn’t helping her, he was killing as surely as if he had held a gun to her head. Who would watch her back? Who would guard her as she slept? What was Carol to do if a horde walked through or god forbid if another group found her?   
“It’s not fair,” her words escaped her as a choked sob. Why couldn’t Rick see what she saw? That the world, despite what he may think, was no longer black and white. Doing what needed to be done and doing what is easy are no longer the same things. The promise of death, so close ever since the first walker had arisen, seemed to Carol to be right next to her. She laid down on the bed and curled up into a ball. Silent tears seeped out of her eyes. She was alone.


End file.
